“Quiz” can feel frustratingly basic at times, suffering from slights and gaps that make the three episodes sail while feeling incomplete. The series would have benefited from either being a 90-minute movie or at least five episodes. ... More egregiously, Frears’ charm and whimsy feel all but absent, limited to a few scenes or dialogue exchanges.

There’s a lot of potential within an already streamlined package, even if it’s threatening to burst open at any minute. So long as the season settles into a groove and manages to avoid overwhelming itself, “Central Park” looks to be a worthy successor to a landmark sitcom — even if there’s still room for improvement along the way.

With excellent pacing, solid structure, and a keen sense of humor, “Ramy” finds the kind of emotional assuredness its main character craves. It’s a smarter, better show for being so hard on Ramy, in part because it knows him well enough to not let the whole story rest on one young millennial’s shoulders.

Ultimately, the shoddy storytelling does a great disservice to the women so bravely sharing their trauma on camera. “Filthy Rich” somehow manages to spreads itself too thin while also offering very little in the way of new information.

While the parameters are a little thin so far; the dancing is — shall we say — everything. The looks, the moves, the face, the music; these are things you didn’t know the human body could do, much less five of them in sync.

It takes all the messiness of affection and heartache and loss and instead of affording it to a central couple dealing with someone on the outside, it treats these three characters as partners each worthy of attention in their own way. Like any good relationship, it’s hard work. But there’s enough communication between characters (and between the storyteller and audience) to build something special.

Space Force is a diversionary delight at best. Missed opportunities abound (whether it’s under-developed characters or first-draft jokes), and anyone expecting a “Veep”-level satire or “Office”-like innovation may be disappointed. Season 2, which seems inevitable given the talent involved, could easily go haywire or refine itself into something better. As it stands, “Space Force” is clearly made with joy. Maybe it won’t fill the “Office”-sized hole in Netflix subscribers’ hearts when the series leaves the service later this year, and perhaps it could serve a greater purpose than silly fun.

Where most historical fiction seems like it’s arcing toward some grand thesis statement of a fixed point in time, “Barkskins” is just as much about foreshadowing the problems of the resulting generations as it is capturing a bygone moment. It might not always lead to the tidiest, easy-to-wrangle storytelling, but it ends up reflecting its time and our current one in a way these kinds of shows are not always able.

Inexplicable idiosyncrasies are delightful, and they stack up quickly to make for a mind-boggling half-hour of television with one surprise after another. But “At Home” is only as engaging as you allow it to be. There’s not enough of a serialized through-line to pull you from episode to episode in a brain-consuming binge, nor does Sedaris request her viewers invest in the many characters who come dancing through. “At Home” is light entertainment.

“Hightown” is an uneven mash-up of incongruous themes, a veritable grab bag of provocations that may have felt edgy 20 years ago. That may have been forgivable if the plot was halfway intriguing, but the twists are about as surprising as a drag queen in P-town.

“Love Life” really only cares about one story, not bothering to flesh out compelling supporting characters or even define its lead beyond her relationships, which restricts its time-hopping structure and ambitious premise to one-note dreck.

“Kimmy vs. The Reverend” isn’t “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmit: The Movie.” It’s too light, too silly, and too unconcerned with characters you once cared about to be taken as the actual ending to a vaunted series. But it’s not trying to be a movie, and it’s not trying to replace the ending Fey and Carlock already provided or reexamine Kimmy’s tragic past; it’s just offering a good time in a way few other TV shows can, matching its madcap creative spirit to a format that allows every joke to have a home.

Season 1 is as about as far removed from Bong’s cinematic vision as you can get, without reaching the “so bad it’s good” level of TV that inspires mouth-agape hate-watching. The show is fine. It’s just fine. In an all-too-obvious twist, it’s exactly the kind of science-fiction drama that TNT has been making for roughly a decade.

This is a show that rarely takes its time. Watching things escalate from tiny misunderstandings to disasters threatening to destroy a city or reconstitute the fabric of timespace is this show’s sweet spot.

Season 2 only elevates the vapid emptiness lurking in “Dead to Me” all along. The basic plot plays out like a bad “Trading Places” knock-off, where the only thing Jen and Judy swap are secrets and guilt.

The first episode of “I Know This Much Is True” frontloads much of the anguish felt and reflected in this six-episode family drama, and even though it’s not wholly representative of the beauty to come, the series’ dour tone can overshadow its remarkable filmmaking, exacting performances, and poignant personal discoveries.

For classic film fans who consume any Old Hollywood media, “Natalie Wood: What Remains Behind” is light on new revelations — but is a sweet eulogy from a daughter to her mother. Go in knowing who’s controlling the narrative and you’ll get what is expected.

The first four episodes of this opening season definitely have their charms — Jason’s meet-up with an ex to try to heal some open emotional wounds has some unexpected push-pull moments — the back half is really where “Trying” settles into a groove.

Shot in a gritty, handheld, vérité style (as apt for the French setting as the jazz performances framing its story), “The Eddy” finds a compelling rhythm in a melodic blend of genres — part family drama, part musical, part thriller — that, while occasionally plodding, crescendos with considerable emotional heft.

“Defending Jacob” saves up enough drama for the final two episodes to make it feel like a substantive event has taken place — enough that you’ll beg to spoil the ending for your friends just to recap the insanity out loud — but when you break it down into parts, there’s not much there.

The show displays some measure of maturity, tossing the notion of good and evil in the Israel-Palestinian conflict with new shades of ambiguity. ... Beneath the cheesy music cues and stock villains, the show presents an intimate look at the psychological toll of the work at hand.